


The Adventure of Spitfire and Oblivion

by Lost_Sanctuary



Category: Original Work
Genre: Dirty Thoughts, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Fluffy Moments, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Bathroom, Slow Burn, Superheroes, adding tags as story progresses, some dirty talk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:01:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26314573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lost_Sanctuary/pseuds/Lost_Sanctuary
Summary: One night can change things forever. When your nemesis bangs on your door bloodied and bused what do you do? What any hero worth his salt would do, you help him.From a twitter prompt of :"imagine the villain shows up at the hero’s door, looking bloody & disheveled, clutching their side & having just enough strength to say ‘I didn't know where else to go’ before collapsing in the hero’s arms."
Comments: 10
Kudos: 16





	1. Help Me

**Author's Note:**

> Got this prompt from @proyearner on twitter. I hope everyone likes it. My twitter is @wolf_mochi if you want to check things out. I mostly lurk on the site but sometimes reblog and even post my own things.

He knew he was taking a chance. The pain in his side flared up as he rounded the alley way corner to the main street and he slumped against the brick wall. Once the dizziness in his head passed he pushes himself up and climbed the three steps to the door. Thankfully this was a mid-tier apartment building so no door man to deal with. At most maybe a few locks to pick or hack into. He made what he hoped was quick work of the first lock since his vision was starting to blur again. The pain in his head was getting worse. He had to wonder how many punches to the head he took from the scuffle. Too many if he was here. Once inside he looked up to the flight of stairs and groaned as the elevator right next to them was tapped off. Just his luck. 

It was movie night. Tonight was his first night off from hero work in months. The Alliance can go kiss their asses if they think to even call him out on a minor issue. A knock at the door has a frown on his face. Maybe it was just a neighbor looking to borrow something. Surely he can't have such bad luck it has to do with hero work. He was startled to find a battered and bloodied face behind his door. His attention sharpened ready to fight whoever was behind this person, but no one came running after him. 

"I'm going to kill your landlord for that.....broken elevator." was the first thing the stranger said. No, he knee that voice. The clothes were regular ones, just torn up. Matted brown hair stuck to one side of the man's face as he slumped against the door frame. 

"Can I help you? Let me call some EMTs for you!" He turned slightly from the man before he felt a hand weakly grab his arm.

"No...you can't. Please....Spitfire. You're the only one I can trust." His heart started to race. No one knew he was actually the hero Spitfire except some of the Alliance members like Nightmare, but she was a super sleuth. 

"I'm not sure what you mean sir. Please come sit down I'll call the EMTs and--"

"Sparks please, I really need you to work with me here!" The desperation in the man's voice struck him right in the heart, but that iced over with fear at the sound of that name. Only one person called him that. He looked back at the man with worry.  
One vivid green eye met his warm brown, mostly due to the fact that the other eye was swollen shut. He'd seen that shocking color before. His nemesis had green eyes. He'd seen them when the visor in his helmet broke a few months ago when there was that dinosaur incident.

"Please....you're the only one I could trust," he said before fainting. Spitfire held his nemesis closer and curses his luck. Movie night would have to wait. He picked the man up bridal style and carefully carried him to the couch. It would be a long night.


	2. The Steakout

A month and a half had passed since what he dubbed “the incident” had happened.   
_“Please....Spitfire. You're the only one I can trust."_ That sentence echoed in his mind for days after his nemesis had showed up at his apartment door. Now Spitfire had a problem on his hands. The morning after Oblivion had showed up he was gone. He had wanted to make sure the man’s injuries weren’t as serious as they looked and if he actually needed to go to the hospital. Instead he found a note on his pull out couch bed.   
‘ _Thanks for the patch up and the pain meds. Don’t look for me. Don’t tell anyone. I’ll mangle you worse if you do. Have some breakfast, it’s not poisoned I swear’_ Of course he was an idiot and ate the French toast, it could have been drugged or had a microscopic tracker in it. But they looked so good, he couldn’t resist!   
  
A smack to his shoulder brought him out of thought. Nightmare glared at him.   
  
“I need you to focus. We are on patrol,” she said. Right. Just because he was dealing with a personal problem didn’t mean he could ignore his hero duties. He’d worked so hard to get noticed by the Alliance after all.   
  
“Sorry, just have some stuff on my mind. We looking for anything specific or just general suspicious activities?” he asked. She glared at him but said nothing else and jumped to the next rooftop. He followed as she pointed something out on her smartphone.   
  
“Yeah, like we said in the meeting before sending everyone out E.V.I.L is planning something. We have good info that there is likely to be a heist of some advanced tech from the government. That is why we are patrolling around the warehouse area of the ship yard and Captain Glimmer and Titan are scoping out the airport,” Nightmare explained.   
  
“Right, right. So the good old Exceptional Virtioso Individuals League. Who came up with that name any way? It sucks and the acronym is too on the nose,” Spitfire huffed.   
  
“Kid, you’re telling this to me. I’ve been confounded by that one for a long time. I’m a good detective, but that one will probably be a mystery to me.  
  
A movement caught his attention and he ducked down and pointed it out to Nightmare. She crouched down next to him and pulled out night-vision binoculars.   
  
“One guy, wearing a motorcycle helmet, so here is the plan- hey! Get back here!” she whisper yelled. Spitfire signaled for her to just wait. It had to be him. If it wasn’t he’d take the guy out and report back.   
  
The warehouse was too big and his instructions were not clear enough. He was looking for a big crate with numbers on the side.   
  
“Too bad that applies to all of them! God damn Mistic and her short attention span,” Oblivion grumbled. He at least had a partial number and it was supposedly the last six numbers. Thankfully there was a computer system set up in this part of the warehouse he could hack into. The ancient yellowed box sat at the first row of warehouse shelving. It would take a minute or two to boot up. Just as he was leaning down to put in a keydrive the air rushed out of his lungs as he was pushed to the ground.   
  
“Ahhgh!”  
His visor was pushed up and the area around him went darker. He was using a special night-vision film on this one. He went for a punch but his arms were caught and pinned above his head.   
  
“Shut it Oblivion it’s me!” Spitfire growled. Well, now that was interesting.   
  
“Ahh, Sparky how’s it been. Ya know I’m really not into this sort of stuff,” Oblivion said in amusement as he struggled against the hands holding him. He couldn’t quite see Spitfire’s face yet, but from the way his body stiffened above him he knew that struck a nerve.   
  
“Cut the crap. You have some explaining to do,” Spitfire said attempting to sound unfazed and tough. A long dramatic sigh left Oblivion and he just shook his head.   
  
“Look, it was either take a chance at jail or be killed. It wasn’t a hard choice. I just got lucky you are a softie. I’ve seen you go easy on the grunts. Even heard about the ‘turn your life around speech’ you had with one of Queen Bee’s goons. Nearly worked but she hypnotizes those guys dude,” he answered.

Spitfire huffed and moved to get off of Oblivion, but still kept his hands pinned.   
  
“Okay, but your ass owes me a movie night. How do you intend to fix that issue huh?” He was reasonably confident that there was no way his enemy could fix that one. You can’t get days back.   
  
“Oh? Is that all? I’ll take you to the movies if you want. I have money. When are you free?” He was finally used to the dim light and could now see the conflicting look on his opponent’s face. Sure they often fought but it had only been a few punches here and there. At least Spitfire was only strong and trained in martial arts and didn’t actually have fire powers or Oblivion would have been toast long ago.

“I- I have money too! Obtained legally I might add,” he retorted voice giving away how incredulous the topic was.

“Eh, mine is legal too just dirty legal. Not like I take bounties or actually rob banks. Now come on, I need an answer Sparks,” Oblivion huffed.

 _“Spitfire, come in. What’s taking so long?”_ Nightmare’s voice buzzed in his ear piece. He hit the button to reply, trying to keep both of Oblivion’s wrists in one hand. The other struggled against him, but didn’t really move otherwise. He should have gotten off of him when he had thought of it because that did things in his mind.

“Ah, it’s fine Nightmare. The warehouse is huge I’m trying to be covert like you said. Haven’t seen the guy yet, I’ll let you know when I do,” he replied like he was trying to be quiet.

“ _Rodger, hurry it up,”_ she said as the line went quiet. Oblivion sighed and kicked at his chest shoving him back. Now it hadn’t hurt, super strength and all, but it had surprised him enough to let go of the other man.

“Listen, I don’t have time for you to think this though. I’ll pick you up at 7 on Wednesday night, be ready. If you don’t show outside in half an hour you can forget the movie,” Oblivion said after he jumped up. He grabbed his key drive and rushed to the door.

“Hey get back here!” Spitfire yelled as he gave chase. Oblivion pressed something on his wrist as he pushed his visor down and a motorcycle arrived at the warehouse door. Even with his greater stamina Spitfire hadn’t been fast enough to catch up to Oblivion. Or was he letting the man get away? He didn’t want it to be that, but a nagging feeling in his head suggested otherwise.


	3. Movie Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oblivion pays Spitfire back for ruining his movie night.

He shouldn’t he here. After that night he had promised himself to stay away from the other man. However, a part of him kept telling him if he got on the hero’s bad side that he’d get worse beatings than he actually did when they actually fought. It would be just like the League, only worse because super strength was involved rather than a number of hits by many individuals. A different part of him was hopeful though. Spitfire was a goodie goodie after all, he wouldn’t take stuff like that out on him right? He parked on his motorcycle and sat there waiting right outside the same apartment building he had stumbled into a month and a half before. Now it was up to his “friend” what he decided to do.

Spitfire looked into the mirror. He had combed his hair, finding that it was getting pretty long. His bangs almost reached his cheekbones and the back was able to be pulled into a very stubby ponytail if he wanted. It usually didn’t matter for hero work since he wore a cowl. Maybe he should change up his hero look, but for now he wanted to at least look presentable.

“It’s not a date. Calm down it’s not a date. He owes you and you’re going to take him up on it. Popcorn, snacks, soda and all,” he told himself. Looking himself over in the mirror he nodded. He thought he looked nice in the dark green long sleeved knit shirt. It was starting to get cool out after all. Jeans were casual so it wouldn’t look too much like a date. Without thinking his spritzed some cologne on his wrists and neck out of habit. It wasn’t a date.

When he got down to the lobby he could see someone leaning outside against the low wall next to steps. Once he opened the door the man turned around. It was Oblivion alright, helmet resting under his arm. He was wearing a zipped up black leather jacket and dark blue jeans. He swallowed. It wasn’t a date.

“Well, well, well, didn’t think you’d show. You look nice. Come on. You ever ride before?” Oblivion asked. He had only done a side car once and said as much to his…acquaintance?

“First off, put this on, then you get on the bike and put your feet on these pegs here. You’ll be squished up, but it’s safer than letting your feet hang. Once you’re stable on the seat you’ll wrap your arms around my waist, do not do a Heimlich maneuver on me,” he instructed as he mounted the sports bike.

“But, I’m pretty indestructible, shouldn’t you wear the helmet?” Spitfire asked as he watched Oblivion get on the bike. It wasn’t a date and that wasn’t sexy.

“And have bad etiquette? My dear Sparks, I’m a gentleman and you always have a passenger who is on your motorcycle wear a helmet. Besides, I’m trusting you to catch me if we get in an accident,” Oblivion said with a smirk. With a sigh Spitfire put on the helmet and moved to get on the bike. Once he was seated correctly he was unhappy to learn he needed to lean forward and rest against Oblivion’s back to hold on correctly. It wasn’t a date, this was for safety, and he was getting a free movie out of all of this.

“You’re doing this to embarrass me aren’t you,” he grumbled.

“You bet your ass I am,” Oblivion cackled as the motorcycle roared to life. He gave no warning as he started to go into the street. Now this did startle Spitfire, but it actually wasn’t chaotic like he thought it would be. Oblivion actually drove like a sane person. As sane as anyone who drove a motorcycle was anyway. Thus his reaction of clinging closer to the other man only had him embarrassed further.

“A little warning next time will you?” he called out. He only got a pat to his hands in response and saw Oblivion point to his ears with a shake of his head. Right, too noisy to hear. He’d chide him later.

Arriving at the movie theater was uneventful and it seemed to be a nice sized crowd filtering into the building.

“What’s playing anyway?” Spitfire asked as he removed the helmet from his head.

“It’s a theme night for the month; Wednesdays are comedy night. It was a safe bet and tickets are way cheaper. Movie theaters are highway robbery on snacks,” Oblivion said pulling a smaller backpack out of a side bag he had near the engine of the bike. They walked up to the box office and got their tickets. Once they were checked in at the lobby Spitfire glanced over at the snack bar. He fidgeted with the hem of his sleeves.

“So, no snacks because it’s highway robbery?” he asked hopeful he’d get his way. He gave Oblivion a look that he was certain screamed ‘you owe me’. All he got was a scoff.

“Dude, buy your own junk. It’s not my fault if you don’t come prepared,” Oblivion grumbled. This was hard. Normally they’d fight with fists and weapons, not words. Spitfire actually liked it more. He had to think and not just think about acting.

“Just a drink? Come on they have that one cool soda machine that has like five hundred flavors! You ever have peach soda? That is a treat,” Spitfire said stepping into his ‘friend’s’ space. They’d been close like this plenty of times. However, right there in that theater lobby it felt as if things slowed down just a little. In fact as he looked at a mother and child to his left they were walking really slowly. He looked to the concession area and noticed that he could literally see the popcorn actually turning into their fluffy state.

“Oblivion?” he questioned turning to look slightly up into his companion’s eyes.

“God damn it. Look I swear I didn’t do this, but I do know what’s going on,” Oblivion began. He tugged his jacket sleeve back a little to show off a watch. He went on to explain that it was emitting an invisible field that rendered the effects of the time slow down useless on the two of them. He went on, “Had you not stepped closer you’d be stuck at slow speed, I would have seemed to disappear from your view.”

“Okay, so what or who is doing this? We have to stop them,” Spitfire insisted. That actually made Oblivion laugh.

“Right, if you haven’t forgotten what side we each are actually on. I’m doing this to be nice, I didn’t need to pay you back for anything,” he said. The hurt look on Spitfire’s face had him sighing and rubbing the back of his head. Great now the hero was going to cry or something.

“Yeah, and I didn’t need to let you get away from the warehouse or bandage you up,” Spitfire said heated.

A loud bang turned their attention to the lobby doors. A woman stood there with large goggled over her eyes and a lab coat fluttering in the wind along with her wild blond hair.

“There you are Oblivion! My scanner said you were nearby. Could you be a dear and help me out?” she asked in a baby-talk voice at the end.

“Uh, no. I’m busy Mistic,” Oblivion said gesturing to Spitfire. The hero was frozen trying not to look at the other villain. He didn’t know if she would know his secret identify like Oblivion did. Had he told the EVIL group? Was this all an elaborate trap? He was so stupid! A cool bike and sexy outfit was going to do him in along with falling for those piercing eyes.

“Oooohh? No who might this little sweet dumpling be? New minion? Or just a gentleman of the night?” Mistic cooed. She walked right up to the pair trying to get a good look at just who was standing right next to her team member. Oblivion pulled Spitfire close, arm wrapping around his waist and cradled his head close to his neck. He was only slightly taller than Spitfire and was taking full advantage of that right now.

“Beat it Mistic. You don’t need my help you just want to bug me while the tech takes it’s time. Sorry to burst your bubble but it has to run through the program to be successful and that means waiting,” Oblivion said. Spitfire heard all that, but his brain was buzzing at that moment. He was catching whiffs of something spicy like cinnamon and a soft floral. He tried to resist but he shifted a little closer catching an amber smell as well. That cologne smelled heavily to him and he hated it.

“Look you’re scaring him, just buzz off ok? With the time it took you to walk over here that program will have run slower since the time stop mechanism includes computers in the radius unless the counter device is nearby as well. It would have been done by now if you had stayed put,” Oblivion chided.

“Oh you’re no fun! You will give me details later mister! Good bye cutie, I hope he brings you around more often you’re easy on the eyes,” Mistic said with a giggle. She walked off from the direction she came. Spitfire watched silently not wanting to move yet, but also trying to figure out his next move. A little squeeze to his hip drew him out of his thoughts.

“So uh, you going to keep clinging to me like a baby koala or what?” Oblivion teased. The blush on Spitfire’s face was so worth it to Oblivion.

“Look, I just didn’t want her to recognize me. I don’t know who you told,” Spitfire grumbled.

“No one.”  
“What?” He looked skeptical at his nemesis only to be met with a neutral look.

“It’s true. I haven’t told anyone. We are both sort of low tier in our respective organizations. Not grunts, but not big fish either. I got lucky there with Mistic. Might have been in a good mood or she really thinks I’ll give her dirty details. Your secret is safe with me,” Oblivion said. A nagging feeling was clawing at Spitfire’s stomach.

“How can I trust you though?” he asked with a hint of anxiety. Oblivion squeezed his hip once more and sighed.

“The same way I could trust you to help me out when I was beaten and bloody?” Oblivion answered softly. The world around them slowly came back into frame as people began to move at regular speed again. Clearly Mistic got what she needed or the timer on the time slowing device ran out. Spitfire wasn’t sure which. The only thing he did know was that he was in trouble. He was getting lost in those forest hued eyes. All too soon things snapped back to reality. He was tugged by the bottom of his shirt.

“Come on slow poke, we’ll miss the movie if we stay out here any longer,” Oblivion said gently despite his annoyed look.

Both men were laughing as they left the theater. Spitfire was holding his sides while Oblivion guided him to the motorcycle.

“Dude, how have you not seen Airplane? It’s classic at this point,” Oblivion said.

“So many things make sense now! Dude how many shows reference this movie?” Spitfire retorted.

“Too many. Did you enjoy the snacks?” This question had Spitfire heating up in the face. While he did enjoy them he was a little upset at breaking the rules of the theater.

“You could have told me so I wouldn’t have been so surprised you know. Plus what if the staff get in trouble?’ It wouldn’t be fair to them after all.

“Dude, I brought stuff they sell there. Plus I kept the chip bags in the backpack. I’ll remember to get more bunch-a-crunch candies for next time. You inhaled that box,” Oblivion said while packing away the bag. They got situated on the sports bike once more and headed back to Spitfire’s apartment. It wasn’t super late but it was heading there. The street lights flashed by making the wet road sparkle. It must have rained briefly at some point. A slap to the wrist caught Spitfire off guard and he jolted up straight. They were at a stop light.

“Wake up idiot! You can’t fall asleep here. Open the visor!” Oblivion yelled. He did as instructed and blinked at the slightly brighter street lights. Once the light was green they took off again. The damp air hitting his eyes did help keep him more alert. Squinting kept the wind at bay. He took a deep breath, the scent of rain and even a hint of Oblivion’s cologne hit his nose. Now he was relaxed for a completely different reason. The drive to his place seemed longer than it had been going to the movies, but he didn’t mind currently.

A gentle caress to his wrist caught his attention and he shifted to look at his friend. Were they friends now? Certainly it would be rocky if they were. The caress was repeated and it sent butterflies to his stomach. He was about to try and communicate when the caressed turned to a rhythmic tapping to his wrist. That confused him until he realized it was Morse Code.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was it a date though? Stay tuned to find out what happens to out unlikely duo!


	4. Safe House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get personal for Spitfire and Oblivion when they have to dodge some shady foes.

His attention was focused on the tapping at his wrist. It was steady so he could cross worry off of what Oblivion might be feeling.

_Car-follow-four-blocks-will-shake_

He gave him a thumbs up and held on tighter. The visor got flipped down on his helmet so that he could keep his eyes open in case of further trouble. They drove regularly for a few minutes longer. At every turn Spitfire was able to see the car in question. It was a dark colored SUV, tinted windows of course. After four left turns the car was still following them, though with at least two car lengths between them.

“Can you shake them a little better or are you trying to see if they have advanced tracking tech?” Spitfire asked at the next red light.

“Yeah, I’m just trying to figure out if they are League or random big gang,” Oblivion replied.

“What does it matter? Dude, we need to get away. How do you think I’d feel if I got you hurt?” He could feel the heavy sigh that Oblivion took and was shocked to have him lean back a little into his arms.

“Is this where you tell me only you can defeat me? I assure you, there are worse people out there who would gladly step on me to get what they want. My credential is being a very good hacker and very tech proficient. I need to decide if it’s worth pissing the League off or not,” Oblivion said, rushed as the light just turned green. Spitfire didn’t even get a chance to respond as he had to cling to the other man as he sped off. Maybe he did want to be the only thing that defeated Oblivion, but not physically. He would rather someone choose being good of their own accord.

He glanced back and the car was starting to close in on them. There wasn’t much of a choice for them. They needed to run and lay low somewhere.

“Book it to Rose Way, hang a right after three streets and go towards the guard house. Trust me. I’m holding tight,” Spitfire said close to Oblivion’s ear. He actually tightened his hold a little more, enough to show he was trying to be secure, but also without trying to crush him. He was fairly certain his leg hold on the sides of the bike was secure enough due to his strength alone. He could feel another sigh but as soon as the light turned green they took off way faster than they had been. Catching a glimpse of the speedometer they had already hit forty-five and it was a thirty-five zone. They were only gaining speed. Spitfire boldly glanced back just to make sure they were actually getting away. He thought he saw someone standing through a sun roof, but he couldn’t be certain.

It didn’t take long for the guard house to be approaching once they turned down the right street. When they stopped a man about in his forties stepped out of the little building.

“I’m going to need some ID sirs,” he said bored.

“Sal, I have a code 30 on my hands here,” Spitfire said producing his wallet. He pulled out a blank plastic card and handed it over. The security guard looked skeptical but took the card and ran it over a machine in his booth. The toll arm lifted from in front of the motorcycle as he handed the card back.

“Alright. Suppose you’re good to go. I’ll send out a signal. Should I lock down?” Sal asked, a little more alert.

“Maybe your station. It’s a dark colored SUV. Send an alarm if you need help,” Spitfire answered. He moved back into position for Oblivion to drive. They arrived to a parking garage attached to a building.

“You want the third floor. I’m trusting you to keep this a secret, please,” he said small shake in his voice. Once they arrived to the floor and parked near the elevator Spitfire hurried to the elevator. He pushed the fire extinguisher box next to the call buttons and revealed a secret panel. After pushing a button sequence the elevator arrived. He motioned for Oblivion to hurry up. He came carrying the saddle bag of the bike.

“No offense but I won’t trust this until we leave safely and my bike is safe,” Oblivion grumbled.

“We’ll have surveillance of the parking spot and other areas in the location,” Spitfire said. Once they arrived at the floor the elevator arrived at he guided him down a hallway to a door labeled as maintenance. He used the same white card from before on the card reader and the door unlocked. Inside was a small apartment, sparsely furnished. There was a breakfast bar, fully stocked kitchen, couch and chair in the tiny living room, and fifty inch flat screen tv mounted to the wall.

“Jeez, think they could spring for some wall art or something,” Oblivion said as he stepped into the safe house.

“It is supposed to be temporary though. I need to make a call, hang on,” Spitfire said. He locked the door and flipped the tv on as he walked to a bedroom. There he made a report in call. Now he thought it would be simple, but he was now on the receiving end of the current hero on duty chewing him out. At least his info on the Mistic incident he provided had calmed him down. He felt bad fudging some of the facts, like Oblivion having a watch that counter acted the time anomaly, or the fact that Mistic actually interacted with and spoke to them verses him saying that she just appeared and clearly within range to not have them effected by the time slow down.

“Sorry to keep you waiting. Anything on the surveillance?” he asked as he walked back out of the bed room. He froze when he caught sight of Oblivion on the couch. He had taken his leather jacket off. Apparently he’d been wearing a black button up shirt underneath it. Spitfire’s eyes lingered at the collar to that shirt, where the first two buttons were undone.

“Nothing much. We may have lost them, but then again I don’t know what anything is in relation to,” Oblivion answered. He laid back, letting his legs hang over the arm of the couch. Spitfire shook himself a little and moved to look at the tv. Nothing stuck out to him either. He moved to the other side of the sofa, nudging Oblivion to sit up.

“Dude, come on, there is a chair!”

“Um, no it’s a wooden chair. Does it really matter? I’ve been pressed into your back for a good half hour now.” That hadn’t come out the way Spitfire thought it would. It wasn’t a complaint so much as a fact.

“Yeah, not in the way a guy would want either. You’re so cruel, don’t even give a reach around. I’m totally hurt!” Oblivion whined as he dramatically placed a hand over his heart. Spitfire couldn’t help the redness that creeped up his neck at that. No way had he thought of that when driving down the road at high speeds. A deep laugh brought Spitfire’s attention back to the man half laying on the couch.

“Didn’t think that’d get you to turn so red, Sparks. Sorry, didn’t think you’d be the prudish type,” Oblivion said moving to let the other man sit.

“You suck and don’t be asinine. If someone wants to be more reserved about sex then that’s not an issue. Also, I’m not. You might know who I am by my face and I’m guessing name wise, but hopefully that’s all you know,” Spitfire said flatly. Oblivion raised one eyebrow at that and moved to sit closer to the clearly flustered man.

“You’re right about all that, but I’m not unobservant. I could tell being close to me was doing something to you, and that’s without wearing poison laced cologne,” the chuckle Oblivion was having got cut short with a quick jab to the chest. A pained cough came out instead.

“Did you drug me?!” Spitfire demanded. He had jumped to his feet and taken a defensive stance. How could he be so stupid? Just because he was a little lonely didn’t mean he could actually trust his nemesis. At least he was in a safe place and he could subdue the man if need be. Hell, he can get him on just being part of the Exceptional Virtioso Individuals League. It really was a stupid name.

“No! Calm down. I was joking about the poison thing. You were getting all heavy eyed and nearly clingy. I’m just saying if you fall for good smelling cologne and a bad boy outfit, then you are too thirsty and will get hurt,” Oblivion said keeping seated. He wasn’t stupid. There was no way out of this place without Spitfire helping, at least not an easy way. He was without a few of his more useful tools. He didn’t even know if they were on a secret floor of the building or not. When Spitfire’s shoulders relaxed a soft breath left Oblivion. He shifted and pat the spot by him on the couch.

The tension in the room was heavy. Spitfire looked over at the security feed before moving to sit down. He kept closer to the couch arm to his right.

“Look, I need a reason to trust you. Please. This current thing is likely unhealthy and honestly, I don’t want to end up like Molecule,” Spitfire said. It wasn’t unheard of for villains and heroes to hook up. It usually didn’t last, but sometimes a villain gets tired of the lifestyle and retires or changes sides.

A small clack sound hit the low coffee table. When he look a card was laying there. He glanced over at Oblivion who held a wallet in his hands.

“That situation was really fucked up. I wouldn’t do anything like that ever,” Oblivion said. He motioned for Spitfire to pick up the card. Once he had it he realized it was a driver’s license. The face of Oblivion smirked up at him. He had the same short neat hairstyle, just currently getting shaggy.

“You look better with the full beard verses the soul patch…Conner,” the name seemed to tingle on Spitfire’s lips. The small smile that got him was really nice, much better than the annoyed look he often wore.

“Thanks, Rhys. Guess we’re on first name basis now?” Conner asked one eyebrow raised. Rhys sighed as he gave a half shrug. It wasn’t like he had done this before. Telling someone you’re a superhero is not easy. Having your nemesis find out and for some reason not actually come after you is another thing.

“I guess if you want to be? Does this mean we keep this separate from our alter ego life or is that different now too?” Rhys asked.

“You act like I got all the answers. People are more complicated than the good guy bad guy narrative that society thinks follows heroes and villains. It’s like a couple who are in love yet they have different political views. Can it work? Sure, but how different are the views and who’s willing to compromise their morals for what essentially comes down to a more increased chance of having sex?”

That took Rhys back a little. Had he fallen for the romanticized ideals of being a “good guy”? He had only ever wanted to help people. A hand shaking his shoulder pulled him back to attention. Conner was pointing at the tv. In one of the corners it showed a dark blue or black SUV parked to the side. Rhys jumped to his feet and ran to the door to make sure it was bolted shut. He picked up a phone in the kitchenette and bounced in place.

“Sal, I’ve got trouble on the south side. Suspicious SUV. Yeah, the door is bolted. No, I can’t come help. Because there is a civilian with me that’s why. I don’t want him to get nosey, classified stuff remember? Okay, thanks,” Rhys clicked the phone back into place a little too hard.

“Troubled by something?” Conner asked in a light voice. As if he didn’t already know. A quick walk to the tv to try and pinpoint any oddity was all Rhys could do.

“Maybe you should keep an eye on your bike. Is it a regular one or is there crazy tech behind it you don’t want to tell me about?” Rhys asked. It was a liability if things went down. He didn’t want it to get left behind if they needed to evacuate.

“It’s a regular motorcycle. I don’t intend to be indebted to any of the psychos who can fund that sort of thing. We have the real thing that needs to be kept safe,” Conner said pointing to his helmet.

“Oh but you have enough for an advanced tech helmet?”

“They pay well if I get them things they want. I only take jobs if it screws over unethical people.”

Rhys smacked his own forehead. Conner was not thinking things through.

“And do they resell to ethical people? Have you thought of that?” Rhys asked frowning. At least Conner looked guilty for that one.

“Guess I need to take my own words about people being complicated huh. Fair point, but what are we going to do about this situation?” Conner asked as he pointed to the tv. There were some men around the SUV just talking it looked like, but there wasn’t audio. They didn’t look particularly special people. Just men in suits. They could be anybody. Worrying wasn’t going to help them stay calm or figure out if staying put was even a good idea at this point. There could be a second group of them somewhere else. It could just be a car full of men. This wasn’t his specialty. Rhys wasn’t great a planning. He was just on scene for muscle most of the time. He started to rub his temple doing his damnedest to not curl in on himself. A warm hand placed itself on his right shoulder and he felt Conner step to his side.

“Hey, calm down. We’ll be okay. Let’s think this though. We can either stay here or run right? So what’s the worst that happens if we stay? We’re stuck here for the night and then we leave. Slightly worse is they find us, but I am doubtful they will. They seem like the grunts that get sent to pick someone up, not always the smartest but we might be able to take them if needed,” Conner said. He was standing so close that Rhys felt not only his warmth soaking into him from his shoulders, but also from his left arm being close to Conner’s side. There could be a problem if they stay though.

“There is only one bed and the couch isn’t a sleeper couch. Any ideas for that?” Rhys had to clear his throat to hide the tiny shake he felt slip out. What was that all about? Why would he be nervous? It wasn’t like it was a date and a really fast moving one at that.

“Oh I call dibs on the bed. Sorry, but I’m already at a discomfort level for having driven a motorcycle. I’m not about to mess my back up sleeping on that tiny ass couch,” Conner said. He quickly moved to grab his bag and hurry to the bedroom. Rhys ran after him, managing to get his hand and foot in the door before it could be closed and locked on him. He was about to start resisting when he fell forward right into Conner’s chest. They both stumbled the few feet to the bed where Conner fell back pulling Rhys on top of him. If he had felt warm before with just an arm around his shoulders, then he was going to break out into a light sweat being held like that.

“Dude, it’s a double bed! You made it seem like it was a single bed thing!” Conner flipped him off his body to his right. Rhys sat up quickly and was definitely not pouting at the amused yet annoyed green eyes looking at him.

“Well, most people don’t like to share a bed. I figured this would be one of those times,” Rhys defended his thought process. Conner just shook his head and moved to the ensuite bathroom.

“Do you snore, drool, or wet the bed on a regular basis?” Conner asked.

“What? No ew gross! I don’t do any of that! Well, I’m not sure about snoring, but the others do not happen.”

“Then I see no reason why two consenting adults can agree to share a space so long as we keep personal boundaries in mind. Are there any extra clothes in this place I can steal? There is no way I can sleep in these jeans, way too tight for that,” Conner said voice echoing from the bathroom. The sink was running and the light sounds of teeth brushing could be heard. Had he packed a tooth brush in his bag for a movie night?

“Did you bring a toothbrush? What did you think was going to happen tonight?” Rhys asked his hands turned palms up as he gestured at the backpack. There was no way he had planned to stay the night at his apartment again right?

“Girl Scout rule, always be prepared,” Conner answered. Despite his confusion, Rhys went to a dresser drawer to see if there was any clothing it in. He doubted there was since this space wasn’t used often. He found nothing and also nothing in the closet in the bed room. It wouldn’t take long to check the pantry in the kitchen. Why would there be anything there? He just wanted an excuse to check the tv security feed once more. No luck on that SUV being gone. It had moved from the south side over to the west side. Technically not on the property, but facing it and facing an exit. It wasn’t a one exit or entrance parking garage, but that didn’t mean that there couldn’t be singular people steaking out different spots. They would be staying the night there. 

“No luck on clothes I’m guessing?” Conner said as he wandered out of the bed room. His black shirt had come untucked from his snug jeans and more buttons had been unbuttoned. He could now easily see his collar bone and the top of an undershirt.

“Ah, no nothing yet. I was going to check the pantry just on the off chance of something being there, but I’m doubtful. SUV has moved. Good possibility they could be steaking the place out,” Rhys said trying to avoid looking at Conner for too long. He ran a hand through his shaggy hair and continued into the kitchen.

“Sucks. You okay with me sheading these jeans? I’m starting to get uncomfortable.” Conner did sound like something was bugging him. This was no time to be rude or have a problem.

“Yeah, I get what you mean, of course get comfortable. It’s looking like we’ll be here all night,” Rhys said. At least being in the kitchen meant he could dig through the canned stuff to see what there was for a late dinner. He found some tea bags and canned soups. It wasn’t much of a dinner to conclude their movie night, but it was better than nothing. They still had some leftover snacks too.

“Damn, I was hoping for not all night, but a day time escape is better, can blend into a crowd. Can we at least use this tv for actual tv and not an anxiety inducing screen?” Conner asked as he appeared in the kitchen door way. Looking back at him had been a mistake for Rhys. That button up shirt was just long enough to reach his hips and flared out cutely at the widest point. From the edge of his shirt the pastel blue and purple landscape boxers were easily a focal point. His honey eyes didn’t want to stop examining what he was looking at. The boxers stopped at his mid-thigh. It was odd seeing that much skin from the other man. Their usual run-ins tended to have them dressed nearly head to toe showing no skin. Rhys liked seeing Conner like this. Not just because he had a good looking body. It was more human than he had ever really seen the other man.

Conner leaned against the door frame left shoulder pressing into the small wall. He crossed his arms across his chest due to his lack of pockets. The path was effectively blocked off unless Rhys wanted to push past him.

“See something you like?” the dark edge to that question sent a chill though Rhys’ chest. He quickly help up a can of steak and potato soup forcing his eyes to look at Conner’s face. The cocky smirk on his lips did not help out the situation. He wanted to hear that husky tone to his voice again.

“Found dinner if you want to call it dinner,” Rhys said more soft than he had thought he would. His head was buzzing and focusing on the wrong things at the moment. This wasn’t just some guy he had started to see. It was Oblivion. He needed to remember that. They probably were not going to even become friends after this. Not with that attitude you won’t echoed in his mind. Conner stood up and only crowded his space for a second as he took one of the canned soups. After looking it over thoughtfully he nodded.

“Sure, why don’t you make us some soup. I’m going to mess with the tv. Does it get cable or am I casting from my phone to the screen?” Conner asked, voice back to its usual tone.

“I don’t think it has cable. Just don’t break anything,” Rhys said. He went about getting bowls set up as he moved around the kitchen. He didn’t want to microwave the food but he would if he didn’t find a pan to heat it on the stove.

The rest of the evening was actually uneventful as far as being in a safe house was concerned. They had an okay soup dinner while watching videos on the internet. They got into an argument over which person in the game play category was better at the same game, but it wasn’t heated at all. Rhys actually liked arguing about something inconsequential.

“As fun as it is telling you that you’re wrong, I am starting to get tired. I’m going to bed. I call the left side of the bed,” Conner said while stretching. The smallest patch of his stomach flashed for a moment as the button up shirt lifted. Rhys wasn’t sure if there had been a happy trail or not, but the idea would also be stuck with many others that night. He waved him off as he picked up the forgotten soup bowls.

“Fine. I’ll clean up. I don’t want an ear full for leaving dirty dishes. Just don’t spread eagle on the bed,” Rhys said. As long as he didn’t get any more heated moments tonight he’d be fine right?

Oh how wrong he had been. All the lights were off except for a tiny bathroom night light in the cracked open en suite. There was no window to the bed room, but a street light shined from the living room under the door. The steady breathing beside him was the only noise he could hear. The full size bed wasn’t enough to keep their bodies from touching in some way. So their legs were occasionally bumping or their backs would touch. Rhys did his best to move away when he felt that happen. It sucked because it didn’t bother him that they were touching. No, what was maddening was that he couldn’t quiet his brain enough to attempt sleep. Flashes of Conner nearly undressed and leaning against that door frame were haunting him. What’s worse his mind kept playing his approach in the kitchen over and over, but instead of taking the soup can his hand would be taken and pinned to his side. His other would follow and he’d be trapped there with Conner leaning into him. His warm breath ghosting over his ear and neck.

_‘I know exactly what I want for dinner Rhys.’_ His mind was the true evil one here. It sounded like he was breathing too loudly, or was that the blood rushing in his ears? He wished he’d taken his jeans off too since only now they were bothering him. He couldn’t shift to do anything because any time he did Conner would grunt and grumble at him. Was he that light of a sleeper? At least getting the zipper and button undone gave him a little something. He could manage to do that slowly enough to not wake his bed partner up.

_‘What’s with the shy act? I know how bold you can be.’_ A soft huff left him. He was really close to just getting out of bed despite whatever cranky monster he’d meet when he got back. He truly wondered if Conner’s cologne was laced with something to make his brain rebel this much against him, or if he was really that desperate. It had taken a while but Conner had stopped shifting beside him every once in a while. Sleep must have finally won over his brain. As carefully as he could Rhys sat up and then headed for the bathroom. He only closed and locked the door. The night light was enough light. A sigh of relief left him when he pushed his jeans down his hips. Why was he so hard? Yeah he didn’t have much personal time to date normally due to the whole hero thing. And yes this was the first time in a long time he’d actually hung out with a person who was not a work or hero associate. He supposed he was a little lonely.

_‘It’s alright sweet boy, no one can see you here, why don’t you show me what your problem is? I bet I can fix it.’_ Rhys was reluctant, but the way his brain was so active tonight really got him going. Sure he usually did a sexual maintenance for himself, but it was never as good as it could be. It was only stress release and nothing more. Right now he was getting into it so much that his brain was making up a narrative for him. Why waste something like that for maintenance? He tugged his boxers down and let his member free. The idea of having to do this over a sink or toilet was unappealing, but easy cleanup was best.

_‘That your problem sweetie? Do you want me to tell you how to take care of it?’_ Since when had he needed telling on what to do? Though since his mind was being so helpful with ideas he only nodded. It was just himself after all. The fact that he was imagining Conner’s voice was a problem to deal with later. The sink being waist high was perfect to lean down against. He braced against it and let his right hand travel down his chest and stomach. Normally he’d just grab and start going at it but letting his fingers brush up and down his hardening cock was very tantalizing.

_‘Oh, is this the problem? Seems like a hard problem you’re facing here.’_ He only nodded again. His calloused fingers slid slowly up the underside of his dick, teasing himself. It was so sensitive he had to bite back a whimper.

_‘That’s it Rhys, touch it. That’s the only way to feel better.’_ He shook his head and spread his legs more as he leaned more heavily on the sink. Letting his member hang there only upped his anticipation. Of course he only did it long enough to get comfortable before grabbing himself in his hand. The teasing was a sweet torture, but he didn’t have time for it. Conner was asleep in the other room and could wake up at any moment due to being a light sleeper. Plus Rhys didn’t know how much sleep the other man needed to function well. He bit his lip to keep another soft moan from slipping out.

_‘Fuck look at yourself, jacking it to me telling you what to do. Imagine me behind you taking that sweet ass too.’_ The gasp left him before he could even attempt holding it in. He could easily picture it when looking at his darkened reflection in the mirror. Sharp green eyes looking at him as they both rocked forward. Filthy words being whispered to him.

_‘What a cock slut. You want that don’t you, to get pounded hard? You can take it because you’re invulnerable. A regular strength man going all out on you won’t even hurt. You want to get ram rodded don’t you darling?’_ Rhys groaned softly as he squeezed himself tightly and jerked his hand a few more times before spilling cum all over his hand and the sink cabinet. Holy fucking hell. He hadn’t cum that fast in a long time. It was nice, but there was still a little bit of desire for more burning inside of him. At least for now he could probably sleep easier.

Once he had cleaned everything up he got back into bed. Thankfully Conner was long asleep by now. He didn’t mind as much if their legs brushed or if their backs were touching. It was warm and felt a little comforting. Sleep finally took Rhys over in a few minutes.

Conner had always been a light sleeper and wondered if he was dreaming or if he was hearing soft grunts from the bathroom. Rhys hadn’t been there but he had gone back to sleep quickly. It didn’t matter what the other man was doing in the bathroom. A tiny wave of guilt had poked at him though. He had been openly teasing the other man and flirting with him. What if Rhys was more repressed than he had thought? Did that mean he was really rubbing one off just because of a little flirting? Well, his dick apparently liked the idea. Too bad Rhys was coming back to bed by the time he was more wake to think about it. Conner sighed softly, doing his best to ignore his baser brain. He’d deal with that all later. Right now he’d just enjoy being warm in bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we learn their names in this one! From here on out it will be their names unless in hero v, villain mode. I usually write to synthwave and there are a few songs that really got stuck on me because of this chapter. That's Lost Boy by The Midnight as well as Last Train, Prom Night and Explorers. Also hope it isn't too soon for sexy things to happen even if it's solo. Rhys and Conner are probably going to get really stuck on one another more than they know. Hope you all enjoyed let me know what you think!


	5. Exploding Statue

Waking up hadn’t been too bad. They both got their clothes fixed to not look like they were slept in. There was no sight of the SUV on the cameras, but the building was now busy with employees who worked there. Thankfully the floor they were on was a secret one so they’d be fine walking out of a door that says maintenance. They didn’t talk much as they left the safe room. The elevator ride was quiet too.

“Good, my bike looks fine, but just in case,” Conner said. He pointed his watch at it and scanned over the entire machine. He hummed as he hovered over the dashboard. He pulled a magnifying glass out of his backpack and looked closer.

“Idiots. They think this was cleaver. At least try to hide a tracker in a hard to get place,” he muttered.

“Any idea who it is that would use trackers?” Rhys asked with worry. He only got a huff as an answer.

“Too many. I’m not exactly popular if I came to you beat up now am I? I’m not on the complete shit list, but a few people are still mad at me for not dying or having permeant damage done. Makes them look weak,” Conner explained. Rhys frowned and held out his phone with the new contact page open.

“Look, you don’t have to but I’m offering to be someone you can call if you need,” Rhys said a little nervously. This could be the last time they did anything as Conner and Rhys. From here on out it could easily be just Spitfire and Oblivion. He could see the hesitation on Conner’s face, but he took the phone and typed something in before pulling his phone out and adding Rhys’s number.

“Look no offence but you are not touching my phone. I can see your number at the top. I use burner phones, so I’ll give you a password to look out for when I’m about to change them ok?” Conner seemed unsure about it, or was it embarrassment Rhys was seeing.

“None taken. I understand.”

That had been a few weeks ago and things were improving between them. They mostly texted but sometimes Conner would call him to tell him to watch something he sent so he could get a live reaction. It really helped that they could text when Rhys was in Spitfire mode. That was a little more dubious, but he just treated it like it wasn’t a big deal. For all he knew Conner was doing the same thing. He glanced at his phone when the text tone went off. He really shouldn’t right at the moment. The text document on the monitor he was sitting at was very much in need of being finished. Although, he’d been there for at least twenty minutes and hadn’t gotten his logs done yet. One quick look couldn’t hurt right? Of course it was from Conner.

‘Yo text me. I’m bored :< ‘  
Rhys shook his head. For as serious as Conner could be he would never have thought he’d use emoji faces.

‘Can’t, at _work_. You ok though?’ Just because Rhys was technically busy didn’t mean he couldn’t stop for a short moment to be sure his new friend was doing okay. He might also be able to get his work done quickly if he actually looked at it. It was just data entry after all. The only thing he really was putting off was his report on just why he had used the safe house a few weeks back. It was mostly done, he just needed to fudge stuff about Conner. He was thankful for a text tone, maybe he could bounce ideas off of the man in question.

‘Yeah. Bored though, like I said. :/ Send me a joke or funny picture? :D’

Why was Conner like this? He was thankful that he wasn’t wearing his cowl so he could snap a picture from the neck up. He frowned grumbled a little. He really wanted to take a selfie frowning, but didn’t want to risk it. Thankfully he had so many pictures to pick from in his saved pictures. He found one of Conner flipping the camera off and sent it to him.

‘Found this weird guy online someplace. Is he funny looking? ;D’

‘Ha ha, don’t know about funny looking. Looks kinda hot to me actually ;)’ Rhys scoffed at that reply. What a way to pat yourself on the back.

‘Pff, I don’t think so. Change my mind lol.’ In all honesty the picture wasn’t bad, but it was defiantly just a random selfie. Almost like it was an afterthought to take a picture like that. He set his phone down and actually looked at his report. The category of ‘reason for why a civilian was with you’ stared at him. Rhys grumbled and ran a hand through his hair. He just wanted to go home at this point. It was against his better judgement but he was just going to make up a reason just so he could go home. “Failed first date, probably won’t see this person again. Gave reason as “classified” job and apologized. If issue arises I will report further.” He hit save and then logged off the computer. Now he could go home. He changed into civilian clothes in the bathroom and then exited the building. Of course it was a sister site to the safe house location. Most office buildings looked the same either way. At least this one was near a bus stop so he could catch a ride home.

A ping brought him out of the mundane thought track. A text from “Midnight” calling his report acceptable and expressing sympathy for the failed date. Nightmare might put up a tough front but she’s a softie under it all. He swore that she was trying to mentor him a little more than other heroes on his level. He generally tried not to reply to her texts is he didn’t need to since she could ask if he would “work” a little later. She had no life according to most. It was as if doing hero work was her only reason to exist at least that was the rumor. He just thanked her and then set her to mute.

The bus arrived and he boarded. He swiped his pass and headed to the back. He ended up in the middle due to it being somewhat full on a commute home for a dozen or so people. He just put his headphones on and did his best to ignore others. Just as he was getting comfortable in his plastic seat by the window his phone rings. Conner’s name is flashed on the screen.

“Dude are you spying on me or something? I just finished work,” Rhys said in a quiet voice. He didn’t want to be that one guy on the bus talking obnoxiously loud.

“Nah, not this time. Why are you so quiet?” Conner asked.

“Bus ride. What’s up?” Rhys heard a little shuffling before he got a response.

“I’m sending you some pictures I need an opinion,” Conner replied. Now whoever thought of the idea to minimize a call in progress so other features on a phone could be used was a genius in Rhys’ opinion. He moved things around so he could clearly see the text message come in and told Conner he was ready whenever. He had to wonder what was so important that Conner would call him for it though. Usually some sort of joke. Apparently he was better to be around if he wasn’t so serious all the time according to a certain green eyed beard having person. He opened the text from Conner and was quiet for a long while. Staring back at him was a picture of Conner but it wasn’t a joking sneer or a rude gesture. No, this was Conner looking down at the phone slightly, head tilted to the left a little bit. A slight smile graced his face giving him a softer look as his hand was ruffling his hair on the right. There was also something was even more alluring about his eyes.

“Yo, Rhys are you going through a tunnel? Hello?”

“A-are you wearing eyeliner?” Rhys asked quietly not just to keep attention away from himself on the bus. His mouth had gone a little dry. A small chuckle sent prickles through him.

“That’s what you pick up on? I guess it really does make the eyes pop. No, dude it’s good right? Like, my comment earlier you said I wasn’t hot so now I got to know is this better?” Conner asked almost as quietly as Rhys was speaking. Did he really take a flirty selfie to ask if he was hot and send it to his guy friend? Rhys supposed that wasn’t too unusual if the guy was planning to send it to someone else.

“Con, why do you need me to tell you what we both already know? I’m the plane one of the two of us. Did my text not have a joking tone to it?” Rhys asked. He only felt mildly guilty for saving the picture, but it was the only one he now had where Conner was sort of hinting at a smile.

“Plane, yeah sure. You are probably ripped. Or is it a powers thing where you can just be strong without having the muscles to back it up?” Conner asked. It felt like they were getting off topic when another message popped up on screen.

“Well, no I still have muscles from my martial arts training and just because someone is ripped doesn’t necessarily mean they are…hot,” Rhys trailed off once he looked at the new picture. It was a shirtless version of the previous one just with some filters added to change up the lighting.

“I put it in black and white, but kept the color around the eyes. Does that work well?” Conner asked. Rhys wanted to wipe the smug look off his face. He could hear it in that condescending question tacked on.

“Also shirtless. Conner I feel like you are being a touch cruel here. You don’t even know if this sort of stuff makes me uncomfortable or not,” Rhys said shame stabbing him just above his stomach.

“Are you uncomfortable Rhys? I’d hardly call a shirtless selfie cruel unless you think I’m trying to flaunt. Like you said you have muscle tone. Where is the coming from?” Conner asked. The teasing edge to his voice actually changed to concern. Even if he could be an ass about things it was clear to Rhys that Conner did actually care about him in a friendly way.

“Just….I don’t have much time in my life to actually receive selfies like this ya know? Work is demanding and then there are always bills to pay,” Rhys replied. Not to mention the odd stigma that he’s heard where all heroes were the pinnacle of what society deemed worthy and being gay was usually not a part of that. Hell, he hadn’t even told Conner his preference for men!

“Is that all? I send you silly selfies all the time,” Conner rebuffed.

“Flipping off the camera is not silly the fiftieth time you do it. Maybe the fourth. Conner can we change topic here?” Rhys didn’t want to get into it. He saw what could happen if you came out to the wrong person before. You could lose everything. He knew better than to just come out and say it. He wished he could find the courage to tell Conner that the filtered picture was very good. He liked how he kept the eyes in color so they’d pop even more. He liked the long smooth line he made by leaning on the wall a little. Conner had made sure to show off his arms and the definition in his biceps. He drove a motorcycle so of course he’d have some muscle tone. Those were heavy to push around if the engine wasn’t on.

“Sure, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Did I at least use the filter well?” Conner said with a remorseful tone. Rhys huffed despite it and felt a tiny smile creep up on him.

“Yeah.”

Things had smoothed out since that bus ride phone call. Almost back to how they were before except they talked regularly now. However, today would not be one of those days. The city was in a wreckage state. Cars flipped, smashed and on fire. The whole picture of chaos. The E.V.I.L organization had launched some sort of coordinated attack. It was all hands on deck helping citizens get to safety and rescuing them. As well as stopping any villains they found along the way.

Spitfire was on his own patrolling around a park. Not necessarily avoiding the action, but he could get to it fast if he called for backup and he could direct people away from where issues were happening. He snapped to attention when something firm yet soft hit him. He looked down when he spun around and saw a clump of turf at his feet. A dark figure stood by a street light with a burst globe. A sleek helmet matching a sleek dark figure hugging suit was on the man.

“Did you just throw a clump of grass at me?” Spitfire barked. Grass stains were a pain to get rid of.

“Oh now is that any way to greet someone? It’s been a while Sparky. How’s it going?” Oblivion greeted. Asshole. He knew exactly everything that was going on. This was now a problem since they hadn’t interacted around each other in their hero and villain personas in quite a while.

“I don’t know. Pretty chaotic right now if you hadn’t noticed. That new?” Spitfire asked as he gestured broadly toward what Oblivion was wearing. He was given a little spin so he could view it from all angles.

“You like? Its part Kevlar and carbon fiber in places. Also some alien or army technology I think but I didn’t design it,” Oblivion bragged. He took one combat booted step forward and Spitfire had to fight the urge to step back. Soon they were only three feet apart.

“Look if you’re not causing trouble I’d advise you to please go home otherwise—“

“Otherwise what?” Oblivion interrupted and taking a step forward. It felt like something was up, or was this really the persona of Oblivion?

“Uhh you know the usual, try and capture you and get you arrested,” that came out weaker than Spitfire had intended. He was in trouble now. The line had blurred and he couldn’t see Oblivion without seeing Conner as well. He could tell it was a tough guy act. Sure Conner was abrasive sometimes, but generally he was pretty nice. Was this a case of just being jaded at the world and getting mixed up in the wrong crowd sort of thing? He snapped out of his thoughts when a hand landed on his shoulder. Oblivion was now right in his bubble of space. He had flipped his helmet visor up and was staring at him.

“That’s a weak argument. Try again. Maybe if you catch me I’ll go along with your idea,” Oblivion said shoving Spitfire. He started to run away and of course like an idiot Spitfire hurried after him. Something was up and he was going to figure it out. He was only a few yards behind his nemesis when an explosion went off behind him. He kept running until he made it to the park bathrooms where he saw Oblivion duck into.   
  
A hand came out of the darkness and grabbed him by the shoulder. He nearly jumped out of his skin but grabbed the wrist and proceeded to start flipping whoever it was over his back.

“Wait it’s me!” Oblivion hissed. He had pressed close to Spitfire’s back and let him take his arm in his hands. This lead to him leaning over his shoulder as well as pressing into him. Spitfire stilled and let go of Oblivion’s arm. He felt his nemesis move away from him and it felt almost incorrect. At least he had more secret thoughts to think about for later.

“What was that all about? You could have said there was a bomb in the area!” Spitfire hissed. Something still felt off about all this, or it could be just that it was odd to think of the two of them as hero and villain.

“I was being careful incase either of us was being watched or walked up on by either of our side. They broke out some real baddies from prison for this as well. Mindscaper, Yeti, and Ringmaster. I don’t want to run into any of them. Especially Ringmaster. That guy is psycho,” Oblivion said moving to lean next to Spitfire at the other end of the sink. Some of the chaos could be heard from outside as fights happened around the city. At least for now it felt a little safe. He had heard of those villains before. Everyone had.

“At least let me warn my side about them okay? I’ll be a minute,” Spitfire said. Oblivion only waved him off as he pulled out his phone to play around. Spitfire hit his communicator ear piece to report in. Thankfully he didn’t get a chatty person or on overly worried about his location.  
  
“So now what? I don’t think we can stay in this bathroom for too long. Someone will come looking for me at least. And well, it’s good to know you’re safe,” he murmured looking over to his masked friend. Oblivion let out a short chuckle and shifted to sit on top of the sink.

“Yeah, I might be looked for at least on ‘results’ for tonight. I was forced to do something destructive. At least blowing up a statue will count somewhat,” Oblivion vented. Spitfire joined him on the sink and sat next to him. It had been a while since they were around one another in person.

“Do you want to ditch? I know I shouldn’t but if you get captured and then get away later do you think it’ll work?” Spitfire asked. Technically he could hold Oblivion captive on his own with just his strength.

“I’d love to ditch. This isn’t quite the thing I signed up for. Now don’t get me wrong, some bad people are getting their just desserts, but a lot more good people are getting hurt by this. Also if I’m captured and escape but don’t bring back any dirt, well you expect me on your door step again,” Oblivion answered. He good naturedly nudged Spitfire’s shoulder with his own. A silence fell between them only uncomfortable due to the sounds of destruction happening so nearby.

“We’re ditching. I can’t feel comfortable knowing this all is happening and you’re out here. Even if I had a feeling you might be in the first place,” Spitfire said as he stood. They needed to actually have a long talk about where things actually stood with them so he could stop over thinking things and maybe squish this crush he may have.

“Alright, follow me to the bike. We got to ditch our outfits,” Oblivion said following the hero over to the door. They ran quickly from the bathroom doing their best to stick to the shadows of the trees and bushes. The motorcycle was hidden near a large tree whose branches were touching the ground and reached to a hedge row.

“Don’t suppose you have a change of clothes in your handy bag there?” Rhys said as he pulled the cowl from his head. His outfit was snug fitting, but it did actually provide some protections against elements and some physical attack. The problem was he stuck out like a sore thumb in a copper colored outfit.

“Might have something,” Conner said as he took his helmet off. He stripped his top off before opening the saddle bag and stuffing it in. He pulled out a blue long sleeved shirt and tugged it on. He rummaged around a little more and pulled a gray tank top out.

“It’s all I got. We’d have to work on pants. Is that a whole body suit or just a snug two piece?” he asked. Rhys was surprised at how normal Conner looked not. Sure the pants looked a little weird but they could pass as an alternative to leather.

“It’s kind of like spandex but tougher. Not sure what it’s made of. It’s two piece, but I really would stick out with copper colored spandex pants,” Rhys answered. He basically had to peel the top part from his body from the waist up. It was nearly terrifying thinking he could be ambushed at that moment due to temporary blindness and fighting with the tight top. A tug from above helped him get out of the clingy material.

“I got ya. Where we heading, your place or someplace else?” Conner asked handing over a second helmet that was attached to the saddle bag. He put the one he had been wearing back on. Rhys figured that one was his supped up villainy helmet.

“Not going anywhere public with these pants. I feel like a traffic cone sometimes.” That got a chuckle out of Conner and Rhys couldn’t help the small flutter he felt at hearing it.

“Oh man, what a missed opportunity to call you that! Oh well, get on Sparks. I have an idea,” Conner said as he mounted the bike. Rhys secured his helmet and got on behind him. It wasn’t like before where he as a little nervous. Now it was an excuse to be unreasonably close to Conner. That flutter in his stomach grew as he wrapped his arms around the trim waist in front of him and he rested against his back. The bike roared to life and the wheels spun in the dirt momentarily before they took off for a destination unknown to Rhys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for a laps in updates. I had quite the issue with where I wanted to take this chapter. I do hope you all are enjoying the story! I do know where their destination lies currently, but I do need to write it. Hopefully I can get that chapter out a little quicker. Let me know what you think so far! <3


	6. One Cup of Coffee Later

They were parked out behind a shopping outlet store. Rhys waited by the bike as Conner tapped at his phone and waited by a delivery door. It looked sketchy. It felt sketchy. Rhys kept looking around expecting to get jumped. Despite the city having a current all-out brawl in some parts, this area was running as if things were normal. The door opened with a squeak and a clank.

“Ricky my good man! I need a favor. Some jeans please. Don’t ask,” Conner said. Rhys couldn’t believe how confidently the other man was standing there, his dark protective pants gone from his body. They had argued about it and somehow Rhys agreed to change into the surprisingly comfortable pants. He was doing his best to keep from looking at Conner’s boxer brief clad backside. Of course he did look a few times and the sight had made his face heat up slightly. It seemed that Conner and the other man, Ricky, were arguing by the way the other was gesturing. Conner kept his cool though and just waited the other man out. Watching his probable new friend shift his weight to his less dominant foot was only a mild distraction. He couldn’t help gazing at Conner’s backside and admiring the shape. Maybe he worked out a little. Rhys only had to do that every once in a while to maintain what he already had. Gaining more muscle would be too difficult for him. He’d need to actually lift way more than a gym could even provide for that.

“Alright thank you! You act like I wasn’t gonna give you money you jerk. My word is good and you know it. Don’t come crying to me when your laptop has so many viruses on it from all those porn sites you look at. Copping an attitude like that,” Conner huffed. He walked back to the bike with jeans and a t-shirt tucked under his right arm.

“Friendly guy,” Rhys quipped as he turned his back so Conner would have privacy to change.

“Yeah he’s a real peach. Got him to give me a t-shirt though. This way you don’t need to wear that ratty tank top,” Conner said. He tossed the slate gray shirt at Rhys before going about putting his new jeans on. They both changed in silence and Rhys only stole one glance of Conner pulling the pants up over his rear end. It had his cheeks heating up due to how tight they waist band looked against his bottom.

“That ass-hat! He grabbed me skinny jeans. Unbelievable. These are going to be a bitch to ride in,” Conner grumbled. Rhys had just finished pulling the shirt over his head. He looked Conner over quickly and only blinked.

“Are they too tight? They uhh look okay to me,” Rhys said. Conner only sighed and put his helmet on.

“They fit just fine, but they get a little tight with your legs scrunched up after a while. Makes some parts not feel so great, at least for me it does,” Conner answered. He got the bike started and waited for Rhys to get on before they left the back area of the little plaza.

\-----------

For a city in the midst of a battle it was really surprising to Rhys just how much of it was not currently in chaos. Clearly the heroes methods of keeping things contained worked well. This was only due to the fact that the café in front of them was not only unharmed, but very busy with people going in and out of the tiny shop door. It was a free standing building next to a plaza, sort of tucked away in the back. It was painted purple and had a brass handle door knob on the windowed door. Rhys and Conner climbed the steps to the door that connected to a ramp on the side. A tiny bell sounded as they walked into the cozy lite dining area. There were small tables scattered about and in the corner next to the door sat a yellow floral print couch against the far wall a low coffee table in front of it along with armchair companions.

“This is real homey. How have I never heard of this place? It looks like a hipster’s paradise,” Rhys said.

“It’s been here as long as I can remember. And I think it is literally the hipsters hang out spot. It’s just not main brand, also vegan if that’s your sort of thing,” Conner said walking towards the left side and back. As Rhys followed he noticed the walls covered in art pieces. There were still life of flowers in a vase, but also a painting of a soft looking Hades and Persephone, not in the harsh style the ancient Greek pottery depicted. It looked more like a story book. Hades held Persephone’s hand reverently and was kissing her knuckles.

“That’s our artist of the month, her name is Celia Dupree. I’ll be with you gents in a moment,” a woman said carrying a try past the both of them. She walked to a little side window on the right and rang a bell before calling out the name of the order. Rhys walked to the little register area that separated the dining area from the kitchen. Conner handed over a laminated menu as they stood to the side in case anyone else came in and had an order ready. There were spice racks full of tea samples to smell next to an acrylic case holding prewrapped baked goods as well as a bowl of fruit. A tiny display of art prints sat on a little writing desk with Celia Dupree’s business cards and prices in front of the prints.

Rhys looked from the menu to the art to the overall room and then to Conner. This man who he only knew to be troublesome and morally questionable took him to a tiny independent business coffee shop; that looked to be run by a one woman army and sold vegan cupcakes as well as promoting independent artists. He felt his heart squeeze a little.

“Well well well, Conner it’s been a while. Your hair is getting long dude. We’ve got pumpkin spice flavor in now,” the woman said as she walked back to behind the register.

“Come on Stella, you know that’s not what I’m into. I’ll just take a cheese toasty, gouda and a latte,” Conner said. It was weird thinking that Conner was a regular to anything, but clearly he came to this place often.

“How about you hun?” Stella asked looking to Rhys. He felt his cheeks heat up since he hadn’t even really looked at the menu yet. He quickly glanced at the menu and figured tea was an alright choice. He didn’t really do coffee much.

“Uh I guess an iced chai latte?” Rhys answered. He didn’t want to make a mistake but he wasn’t sure why he thought he would.

“Oh nice choice, it’ll be 16.36 and a few minutes,” Stella said. Rhys looked sadly over to Conner. He didn’t have any money on him due to the issue of nearly skin tight hero clothing. He only got a small huff of amusement and Conner swiped his card at the card reader.

“You pay next time ok?” Conner said quietly next to Rhys. That made him wonder if there would be a next time but the thought put a little fuzzy warmth in his chest. He really did want there to be a next time.

“Deal. You’ll need to tell me what foods you like or else I’d end up taking you to a café that only serves chicken salad sandwiches,” Rhys teased.

“Ouch, you think I’m a basic bitch like you?” Conner jabbed back walking to a little table in the corner, the one where the painting of Hades and Persephone was hanging above it. Rhys gently bumped Conner’s shoulder when he sat in the chair adjacent to him.

“I’ll have you know its good work out food for me. It’s at least healthy depending on the amount of ingredients. You have no idea how many calories I can burn through when I’m trying,” Rhys said. Conner held his hands up in defeat and just chuckled.

“Alright fair. No need to get upset. I suppose I can try something new sometime and I’ll reserve judgement on if you’re basic or not after,” Conner said with a grin. Rhys just shook his head and felt that fuzzy warmth grow a little bit.

Their order eventually came and they had pleasant small talk. Rhys couldn’t get over how nice his chai latte tasted. Like liquid Christmas. It was spicy and warm but due to it being iced had a refreshing bite as well, like a winter breeze. He was going to have to treat himself to that more often. In the low lights of that café as he looked at Conner a small spark crackled in his chest. He didn’t see Oblivion or a villain. The man sitting before him was a complicated being. He was passionate about people having not only equality, but equity in things. Not to mention how good he looked if physical beauty had to come into play. Being around him made Rhys question himself.

“Conner what are we? I mean to each other,” Rhys asked doing his best to stop his leg from bouncing.   
  
Conner took a long sip of his drink before answering, “I guess it depends on how you look at our entire relationship, but I’d venture to say odd friends. Kinda like opposites, but we really aren’t opposite in beliefs.” That made sense to Rhys. They were just on opposing teams where some goals were the same.

Their little drink break had ended only after a fifteen minutes and they were back on the road. This time to gauge the safety of their neighborhoods. They’d gone a location that was playing the news and things were looking grim. Part of Conner’s neck of the woods had gotten bashed up and set of fire. Rhys’ area was looking to be alright.

“Damn it. They might let me in to get some things if it’s safe enough, but I don’t have a car to get everything I’d want out of there. I know looters will eventually come if my place is trashed,” Conner grumbled. He had pulled out his phone to send off rapid texts to some people. Rhys felt a little useless in the situation as he didn’t have a car either.

“How much stuff? I can carry a lot of weight you know,” Rhys said. Conner just smirked as he looked at his phone.

“I am aware, but I’ve never really seen it. No, I’d rather you not have to carry my things only because it’s bulky and you’d have to take a bus. I don’t feel comfortable with all of that. I just need to get to them today and wipe my computers. I can sell them now for a bit lower on the cash value and just upgrade in a month or so,” Conner said as he continued to text.

“That doesn’t seem fair to you though,” Rhys said. He got a shrug as an answer before Conner stepped into his space.

“Just put your helmet on cutie and leave the thinking to me. I’ll still need your help to get most of my things out. I have bags after all,” Conner said. He patted Rhys on the shoulder before heading out of the building they stood in to catch the news.

The drive had been quick. Apparently they were closer than Rhys had realized. It certainly wasn’t middle class like the area they had been in. Maybe lower middle to upper poor. More places had closed signs or for sale signs on the businesses. One plaza they passed was defiantly rubble now. They pulled up to an apartment complex that was gated, but there was no front gate with a code so people could get in and out without issue. On the east side there were two buildings that had seen damage and there was an active scene with police and fire trucks. When they were stopped Conner explained he lived there and showed id to prove it when the cop asked.

“It’s a shame son. Which unit are you in for 504?” the officer asked. Thankfully it wasn’t a total loss for Conner. Apparently some super and a villain crashed into the roof of the building and the top floor was wrecked. The real problem was that they also went diagonal through the floor to the bottom floors so the structural integrity of the building was now compromised. They were led in by a firefighter to grab only what they could carry.

“I’ll get you a back pack, but can I trust you to unplug stuff? You can wonder all you want and I’ll tell you later about things ok?” Conner asked. This was the first time he actually looked nervous around Rhys. What could make him be nervous?

“Sure,” Rhys said as they walked through the door. It was small. In the corner to the left of the door there was a desk set up that was at least two computers and four monitors. The little living room had a mid-sized flat screen tv on a stand in front of a coffee table and small couch. A few gaming systems sat on crates just under the tv and a book shelf full of games sat next to it.

“Start at the tv. There isn’t water damage over here. I don’t think my room was lucky,” Conner said. There had been a fire on the top floors so smoke and water damage could have made it to some part of the unit. As Rhys worked on getting the systems unplugged he heard cursing from the bed room.

It took them a couple hours but the managed to get all the electronics and things that weren’t damaged out of the unit and set on a tarp nearby. It only took long because they had to go one at a time because Conner didn’t trust anyone to not touch his things. So they took turns keeping watch until they had finished. Most of his clothes had gotten destroyed but the ones in the dirty clothes basket by the washer and dryer were fine as well as a load in the dryer. It was a good thing Rhys was so strong, he could carry a full set up of the computers out at a time provided they were stacked correctly. Eventually a van had pulled up with a friend of Conner’s in the driver seat.

“So Conner, where to bud? My place?” the man asked.

“Fuck that Jonny. You live with three other people. No room for my stuff. Just take me over to Box Storage on Crest View Ave. I’m sure I can get a unit there for a couple months,” Conner replied. Of course that didn’t sit right with Rhys even if it was the logical thing. 

“Cool. You need my couch though?” Jonny asked. Before Conner could answer Rhys put a hand on his shoulder. What was he doing? This was a bad idea. They weren’t even proper friends.

“You could crash with me. Less crowded. If you want that is,” Rhys said softly. Heat rose to his cheeks and he felt like kicking himself. He knew what Conner did as a job or at least on the side. Would he be okay with that?

“Dude really? Is there room for my junk? Like if there isn’t please tell me right now. And I’ll pay you too, don’t think I’d try and mooch off of you,” Conner said relief flooding his entire posture. He’d been stiff ever since he saw the news. It was in the way he stood and answered in clipped tones.

“It’s settled then. Let’s load up and you can handle insurance claims once we get back to my place,” Rhys said picking up the tv like it was a soft pillow. He knew it was the right thing to do. He would just need to work on his crush and figure out how to defend his actions of deserting his hero team mates while in battle. It’d be easy right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do hope anyone reading this is enjoying it so far! Sorry I don't have a strict upload schedule. Also I promise soon that these two will at least flirt properly maybe we'll get hand holding? >.>;; 
> 
> (Alternate title is Coffee Shop AU)


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